


Junction

by monanotlisa



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, POV Second Person, Post-Canon, Post-Movie(s), Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 13:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12300285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monanotlisa/pseuds/monanotlisa
Summary: Follows the movie and therefore needs all the warnings the movie does.(Plus one for pretentiousness.)





	Junction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedeadparrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadparrot/gifts).



  
  
  
You are, and you aren't.  
  
  
  
Although you are drifting, it's not in the vast emptiness of space. This, whatever it is is, is filled with something. Not stars, not even stardust; certainly nothing human-made. Maybe it's what made humans instead.  
  
  
  
If you were you, you’d say it flows through you. Except that's not quite right, either. Trust the Force, your mother said.  
  
  
You were never great at going with the flow, but then again, here you are. You were never good at committing and never good at caring either...until you were. _Cassian_. Chirrut. Baze. Bodhi. K-2SO. The whole fucking galaxy.  
  
  
Somewhere out there in that galaxy, something is happening. You don’t know what, exactly, but you can feel it reverberate. You would smile if you could.  
  
  
It's a thought. But turns out it's the thought that counts, after all.  
  
Because now, faintly, you see, as if in your mind's eye, the image of your mother's gift. The crystal of its pendant. Does it matter if it's just a memory? Because you get to watch its molecules shimmer into not-quite-existence. So it's close. Close enough.  
  
Once you see the kyber in what is not void after all, you also see your hands. If you had to breathe, you would take the deepest breath ever; you really would. As it is, you let it happen and make it happen at the same time. It's almost easy now, because it’s all there already. You are not struggling. You’re simply focusing. The crystal is your focus, just as it has been.  
  
Your arms. When you look down at them, you wonder if you should be cleaner; you can see grains of the sand of Scarif caught in the folds of your wrist cloth. What should you even be?  
  
"Jyn."

The one syllable of your name has never been more resonant.

You open your eyes. Warmth spreads through your chest. You could never mistake that voice for anything but what it is. Cassian Andor, in front of you. Or possibly next to you. Potentially he’s even inside you (now there's a pleasing thought), and you are projecting him. Like the kyber crystal before, he's a glowing outline at first. 

But of course he could never remain just a glow. Glows don't speak, for one. Can you speak? You don't try, you do:

"Cassian."

A laugh from him, and that too is faint but not weak. It's there in the not-there-ness, rough around the edges. So, pretty much as it should be. As he should be. He looks almost solid now, down to the crinkle around his eyes when he looks at you. Cassian, too, is wearing what he wore on the beach. "Why aren't we dead?"

You feel this calls for a side-eye, or a raised eyebrow. The movement seems a bit too much yet. "We are." That one you know for sure. You are both dead. This is not your body. This is not Cassian's body. Still. "Doesn't mean we're _gone_."

"Right," Cassian says, and he does manage a raised eyebrow. He's closer now; you can feel the hum of him: energy solidifying with proximity to the crystal you're still holding out in front of you somewhat foolishly. He reaches out, whether for the kyber or your hand you don't know. But either way he touches you.

You gasp at the sensation of a small but powerful current hitting the stream that you are a part of. "I can feel you," he says, and oh, the wonder in his voice. You feel almost choked, only that's a terrible word for something so beautiful.

You may not have an actual body, and neither does Cassian, but that stops neither of you from embracing. Hard. You guess both you were a little stubborn then. Stands to reason you'd be stubborn now. The Force does work in mysterious ways. You tell Cassian so, and he pulls back. His crooked grin is everything. You grin back at him: not an echo of him but a reflection of you.

"You think the crystal saved us?"

Your mother would. "I think --" you stop, because even for you this sounds unbelievably conceited. "I think we saved ourselves. With it, sure." _The strongest stars have hearts of kyber._ "But we did this." You used to think it was useless to have hope. But there was your father; there was Bodhi. You did have hope, endless despite the end.

Cassian looks at you, and you'd never tire of him doing so. "Jyn. I can do a great many things -- or, I used to. But I'm no Chirrut Îmwe with Jedi tricks up my sleeve."

The name sends a pang through you. "You said yourself he was no Jedi but a Guardian." Chirrut, with his unbreakable faith. The good thing is, you now know he is not gone, either. He is not where you are. Or rather: You are not who he is bonded to. If you closed your eyes again, you're almost certain you could see lines crossing the universe. Chirrut and Baze are on another line, another path. They would always find each other.

It's simpler to think of bonds when it's two other people.

"You don't have to be a Jedi, or a Guardian, or a Protector" you shrug. Yes, you shrug. The Force ripples around and ultimately with you. It determines you, but you determine it, too. "You have to be...tuned into the Force, though. You have to listen. And Chirrut has been listening all his life."

You're no longer wrapped around each other, but Cassian is holding your hands, still around the crystal: warmth on the outside and the inside. "And you? I mean, you brought me with you." He says it with certainty. The scratchy melody of his voice rings through you.

Yes, you brought Cassian with you. You chew your lower lip. "My mother gave me the crystal because she must have been sure I would get attuned to it, and it to me. It would connect me to the Force. I wasn't done thanking you, back on the beach. But you --" why is this so difficult, even in this not-now? "But you needed to be connected to me, too."

"You know I am." Cassian sounds so fearless. He always has been, you suppose. "Do you need me to say it, Jyn?"

Yes. No. "I don't know."

"You know what the old tales say about the Jedi. Their devotion to peace, wisdom, and benevolence. That you need to nurture them." His voice cracks a little. "I always thought I was best at the opposite. But then I met you. And you, I --"

You can't stand it. You lean in and kiss him. He kisses back, and it is as real as you both make it. Around you, the Force is humming. With feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for being patient with me.


End file.
